


things we won't talk about on our coffee break

by Halja



Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Background Salieri/Other(s), Bakground Wolfgang/Costanze, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Implied/Referenced BDSM, Kinky Gen, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Sex Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halja/pseuds/Halja
Summary: It's Stephanie's turn to organize the yearly office party. Unfortunately, he books the wrong establishment.
Relationships: Lorenzo Da Ponte/Johann Gottlieb Stephanie





	things we won't talk about on our coffee break

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Banned Together Bingo. Prompt: Slutty Fun.

The situation was rapidly spiraling towards… something. Chaos, probably. Catastrophe, possibly.

Joseph had disappeared, which might have actually been good, all things considered… although he had disappeared at about the same time some flashy girl with ridiculously long, hot pink false eyelashes had appeared, carrying a heap of leathery things in her arms and a flirty smirk on her lips, and so Lorenzo was trying to tell himself that for all that _their office manager_ could be an eccentric guy with a big self-indulgent streak, he had definitely _not_ just seen him let himself be led away on a pink leash. Anyway, the _point_ was that at least he wasn’t there to watch as his employees slowly trickled down towards the bar to mingle with the regulars and offer them drinks, or towards the dance floor to rub up against them. Cavalieri, for example, had managed to attract a little crowd of admirers with some kind of impromptu seductive song and dance number and was now basking in their attentions like the little diva she was. And there was a steadily growing number of people currently unaccounted for…

At one point, he thought he saw Salieri being dragged away by a small army of leather-clad men and women, and then he had to stop and _really_ look to confirm that yes, that _was_ what he was seeing. His first instinct, of course, was to wade through the crowd to lead his colleague back to safety, because knowing him, he probably felt overwhelmed and completely out of his depth and _very_ displeased, and he seemed to be flailing and recoiling quite a bit as all those not-so-surprisingly-anymore underdressed people surrounded him and pushed him around and stroked his too-clothed chest and back… but then he got close enough to see that Salieri didn’t look all that unhappy, after all. In fact, he seemed to be _grinning,_ which would have been a rather shocking sight even in more usual circumstances.

He thought it’d be wiser to leave him to his devices, whatever they may be, and maybe go look for young, reckless Mozart and that girlfriend of his with the heap of golden curls and the sweet smile, who might be both _actually_ in need of a rescuer.

Except they weren’t anywhere to be found on the dance floor, or back at their table, or at any of the tables and couches around the floor, or at the bar. So, without thinking, he started wandering beyond the bar, towards the little rooms that had drawn their group’s attention when they’d just arrived at the club, and found a door that was left ajar. Had he drank less, or been less nervous, he would have never peered inside. As it was, he could not look away, nor do anything at all but _gape._

Fortunately, it _was_ Mozart and his girlfriend inside. Unfortunately, it appeared his search had been for nothing, because they probably wouldn’t need any help unless Mozart was too tipsy to remember how to untie knots. But it didn’t really look like that would be the case, as his fingers seemed to be moving quite deftly even now.

«Wolfgang!» gasped the young woman, suddenly and rather loudly, stilling against the X-shaped contraption she was currently bound to, and it took Lorenzo a moment to figure out that it was about _him._ Which made him feel simultaneously very relieved and _very_ uncomfortable.

Mozart must have noticed where his girlfriend’s gaze was directed, because he pulled his hand out of her pretty blue dress, spun around to face him and jogged to the door. His startled expression tuned into one of calm amusement, though, as he recognized him and exclaimed, «Da Ponte! Looking for some fun, too?»

Before Lorenzo could even _think_ of an answer, he had already turned again. «Hey, Stanzi! Remember Lorenzo? He’s one of my colleagues.»

Inexplicably, _Stanzi_ seemed to relax as much as her spread arms and legs allowed her. «Oh, of course!» she said, and let out a little laugh. «Well, at least he’s not one of those with a stick up their ass. _And_ he’s pretty cute. I just didn’t really expect to see anyone come inside… not so soon, at least.»

Lorenzo blushed and Mozart laughed, throwing his head back. «Fancy a third, my love?» he asked.

Huh. So much for the innocent girl and the boy talking too big a game not to end up in way over his head.

But then Stanzi pouted and said, «Mmh, I don’t know, I thought we’d just focus on each other tonight… but then again…» And Mozart walked back to her and gripped her hips, and leaned in to whisper in her ear something that made her giggle.

And while she murmured a reply and he answered back and so on and so forth, Lorenzo slipped away from the door. Which he made sure to close.

He resolved to mind his own business, after that.

In fact, he told himself he did _not_ need another drink and went outside for a nice breath of fresh air behind the building, were there were less people hanging around and either giggling or looking around self-consciously. Except that, of course, the air felt more _chilly_ than fresh, after the pulsing, sweaty heat of the club, and it cut right through his lungs like a frozen knife. Right. Time to tell Mozart where he could stick his ridiculous bet, at least mentally, and call it a night. He was getting too old for this shit anyway.

By _this shit,_ he simply meant staying up all night in seedy clubs full of half-naked, willing people. He’d never given much thought to… all that other stuff, actually. And they’d still called him a troublemaker and a slut, depending on who was handling the scoldings or the snide remarks at the time. Oh, but if they’d ever seen him somewhere like _this…_

Someone coughed, the kind of cough that was just a ploy for attention, and Lorenzo looked to his side. _Ah._ Now, there was another troublemaker… and a previously unsuspected one. He bowed his head at him, slightly, and smiled. «Nice party,» he said.

Even in the dim glow of the streetlights, Stephanie’s face burned red as he stared at him. He shook his head and he laughed that high, shrill laugh of his… but this time, it clearly lacked any sort of confidence. And that specific lack didn’t even sound anything like his usual _desperately trying to get Joseph to at least evaluate his new, innovative project while attempting to keep Rosenberg on his good side and hinting he would very much appreciate a hand from Salieri_ anxiety, or his _stubbornly trying to get Mozart to focus on the project at hand instead of flirting with everyone in the room and mocking Rosenberg behind his back_ exasperation. It just sounded weak. Empty. A little lost.

Lorenzo had never paid that much attention to Stephanie, to tell the truth. Stephanie was just _there,_ nervous yet always vibrant with barely-contained energy, creative frustration, and an unfounded, senseless, near-constant optimism. Lorenzo didn’t like this. So, after a moment where neither of them spoke, he told him: «Beats the usual office party by miles, anyway. Everyone seemed way too _happy_ to get passive-aggressive, at least. Or straight-up aggressive. Remember when Mozart tried to pick a fight with that drunk guy and dared the whole pub to try and judge him according to their moral standards, last year?»

Stephanie smiled, a little more genuine, and Lorenzo felt like smiling, too. Then, Stephanie said: «I was _so_ excited at the thought that I’d get to handle it, this time. Must be why I mixed up the bookings. Can you imagine? This was supposed to be a five-star restaurant.» But what he’d _actually_ just said must have hit him right away, because all of a sudden, he was scrambling to correct himself. «I mean, I’d booked the restaurant, but then… you see… what happened is…»

Lorenzo cut him off with a careless wave of his hand. «I think everyone’s already figured it out…»

«Oh.»

«… but I doubt any of them care.»

Stephanie whipped his head back up from where it was hanging dejectedly. «Yeah, I’m sure they don’t care _now._ But what about when they sober up? When we all come back to work and they start _gossiping?_ » he snapped.

Lorenzo wasn’t even _sure_ he’d ever heard him snap, so it took him a second to recovere. An when he did, he just said the first thing that came to him. That thing was, «Well, if they have any problems with this, or you, they can come to _me._ » He briefly considered slamming a hand against his forehead, then. Maybe a breath of chilly air wasn’t enough to clear the alcoholic fog away from his mind.

But Stephanie was blushing again, and he was _smiling_ again, and now the smile looked a _lot_ more convincing, more sure of itself and actually happy… and he did look nice like that. Very nice, actually.

Stephanie took a deep breath. And another. And finally, with a sudden bold look in his eye and a determined set to his face, he asked him: «Want to come to my place? It’s not far.»

Lorenzo opened his mouth, then closed it. He’d been planning to call it a night, to just go home and crash on the couch and maybe pick himself up and go to bed later on if he felt up to it. And yet… in that moment, looking at that smile… «No leather, or weird X-shaped boards?» he joked, raising an eyebrow.

Stephanie rolled his eyes. And the smile turned into a _grin._ «Not if you don’t ask for that stuff. But if you ever do, I’d be glad to use them on you.»

That was good enough for Lorenzo.

The next morning, Salieri came in to work uncharacteristically late, with a slight limp and shifty eyes that kept valiantly attempting to look people in the face before dropping their gaze again. But no one teased him much, as everyone seemed to have tacitly agreed that any explicit mention of last night’s events would have been too awkward to bear. Well, everyone except for Mozart, who cheerfully declared the office full of winners despite the fact that some of them could still use some help loosening up, _winked_ at Lorenzo, and then clapped Stephanie on the shoulder to congratulate him on the terrific party and suggested they should do it all over again next year… but Mozart was Mozart, and Lorenzo was _really_ starting to doubt that he could ever be embarrassed by anything concerning sex.

But leaving Mozart and whatever went on inside his head aside for a moment, and going back to Salieri… well, despite the awkwardness, he also looked peculiarly relaxed and content, which made working with him a good deal more pleasant than the usual _keep your eyes on all details of any project at any given moment and keep the small talk at minimum_ attitude, which in turn was probably another reason why nobody had yet made any overtly suggestive comment on how one of the most uptight people in their office had ditched them all to go have presumably kinky group sex with a bunch of strangers in fetish outfits. And why everybody pretended not to notice whenever Salieri checked another text on his phone and tried to bite back a grin or hide a blush.

Well, everybody except for the _other_ most uptight person in the office, who kept glaring at Salieri like he was accusing him of some very deep and personal betrayal. But Rosenberg kept looking at Mozart like his easy smiles and careless verve were an offence devised specifically to infuriate him and worth fuming about all day, too, and at Lorenzo himself with an air of disgust about him that clearly spelled _I don’t know why I expected any better from you,_ and at everybody else like they were all such huge disappointments. Lorenzo remembered that he had left shortly after things had started heating up at the club, despite Mozart’s dare to stay and see the night through or more likely because of it, but not before doing a great deal of open-mouthed staring at a group of women in fishnets and corsets… but of course, he was just judging their shameless attire and life choices, wasn’t he?

He did his best to ignore it all until lunch break, when Rosenberg made the mistake of cornering Stephanie in the hallway and impressing his disapproval upon him.

It was frankly impressive how the indignant rage of such a small, physically unimposing man could appear so genuinely worrying in that moment. But then again, he was gesticulating frantically all over Stephanie’s personal space, and _Stephanie_ wasn’t all that difficult to intimidate even on a good day… at least in an office setting. He was fretful and eager both to please and to prove himself, and he had a tendency to talk too much.

«And again, I assure you that it was an honest mistake, and definitely not what I had actually planned for our evening, and,» he was saying right now, but he cut himself off as soon as Lorenzo’s hand fell on his shoulder and lingered there. Touching him so easily still felt so _new,_ but Lorenzo nodded and smiled a little, and was relieved to see him smile back, if barely.

«Is there any problem here?» Lorenzo asked, turning his face to stare at Rosenberg again.

« _Any problem,_ » Rosenberg repeated, and made a face like he had swallowed a whole lemon and then some. «This pervert _accidentally_ brings us to his own little den of iniquities, the whole office goes crazy, and _he_ asks if there’s any problem! Or did you really believe all that nonsense about him not knowing about the club at all, Da Ponte?»

Stephanie’s shoulder shivered under his hand. Lorenzo squeezed it lightly and said, very calmly, «Does that matter? Whether he knew about the club or not, I don’t think he was even the one who enjoyed it the most during our party. Many of us seemed to share the same tendencies you accuse him of having, actually. So, what should he be ashamed of, really?»

Rosenberg’s red-faced sputtering was _priceless._

«What, indeed!» he eventually managed to squeak. «Well, think whatever you want, since apparently you’re just as bad as him. But I do wonder what Joseph will say about this!»

Lorenzo thought back to the girl with the pink eyelashes and almost burst out laughing. Stephanie didn’t seem to share the sentiment, though, so he simply said, «Well, he hasn’t said anything up to this point, now, has he?» And then, because he just couldn’t help himself, «Really, you just sound angry that you didn’t have as much fun as everyone else. Or should I say _frustrated?_ »

For once, he actually managed to leave Rosenberg speechless. At least for a moment. He knew he’d never forget that wide-eyed, slack-jawed look, anyway. Maybe he was starting to understand why Mozart loved to rile people up so much… or at least, _certain_ people…

He grabbed Stephanie’s hand midway through the rant, both because the rant itself _was_ starting to get tiresome after its positively explosive beginning, and because he didn’t want the poor guy to have to weather it in its entirety on a day like this. Also, they didn’t really have that much time. «So, I think I do owe you a lunch,» he told him. «You know… after yesterday’s late night snack.»

A pause. Then, Stephanie threw his head back and his laugh was high as usual but it sounded so much easier, so much more confident. _Cute_. Really cute. He squeezed his hand and replied, «You do, you do. And I know a very nice place.»

So it was Stephanie who started walking away, with a spring in his step and humming something under his breath, and Lorenzo could do nothing but follow. Laughing, too, as Rosenberg’s voice rose to a screech behind them.

But he didn’t actually _want_ to do anything else, not in that moment, and so that was – more than – alright with him.


End file.
